Forget Me Not
by captainbean
Summary: Wyatt has a pesky case of amnesia, but he hasn't forgotten how he feels when he looks at Lucy. Set between 2x02 and 2x03 - Lyatt.


**(a/n) **I can only apologise for the size of this beast, I'm not totally sure how that happened. It's set between 2x02 and 2x03 in my mind. I'm not sure it if makes total sense, and I've definitely taken liberties with the medical jargon and technical lingo, but just take it all with a pinch of salt.

**Forget Me Not**

"We really can't determine the extent of a head injury at this point until he regains consciousness…"

Son of a _bitch_, he has a splitting headache. It feels like someone has smacked him upside the head with the biggest wrought iron pan they had to hand after a night of drinking himself under the table with no sleep. Although he must have had _some _sleep because he's pretty sure the unconscious person the man he can hear talking about over the sound of blood pumping in his ears must be him. Huh. Maybe he's been in some kind of bar brawl, but he honestly can't remember, which is kind of strange in itself. Maybe he drank so much he blacked out and someone got the upper hand in an almighty ass-whooping. That's embarrassing.

He doesn't dare open his eyes. That can surely only make things worse, the way his head is pounding and the feeling of nausea that's settling over him right now. Ok, what can he feel? It doesn't feel like anything's broken. He's definitely lying down, somewhere pretty comfortable – he can feel soft bed sheets under his fingers if he stretches them a little. His fingers are the only part of himself he feels comfortable stretching at this moment in time – if he sits up, or even tries to, he thinks he might topple right out of the hospital bed he's found himself in.

He assumes it must be a hospital bed he's in with the medical lingo he can vaguely hear outside his room, but without opening his eyes (he's working up to that) it's difficult to confirm. Wow, it really must have been a pretty rough night to find himself passed out in a hospital, or some kind of sick bay at the very least. He can't hear any busy hospital noises beyond the doctor assessing his state of consciousness though, so God knows where he is – he could be in an underground basement somewhere about to be sliced open and his organs sold on the black market for all he knows. He really should open his eyes and assess the situation, but holy _crap_ this is one of the worst hangovers of his life and this is going to hurt.

He cracks open his left eye very slowly, just a fraction, allowing his brain to process that this is happening, but the light in the room isn't as blinding as he thought it would be. It's actually pretty dim – is it night? No, just no windows by the looks of things - no indication, in fact, of the time of day at all. And yes, his head still pounds, but it's not as bad as he thought it was going to be so he gingerly cracks the other eye open and moves his head a fraction to take in his surroundings.

Yep, definitely some kind of hospital room, or sick bay, or medical _something_. It's pretty basic, and looks almost military, but he doesn't sense that he's in any immediate danger. It's definitely a relief that he's not in some kind of back alley den about to have experiments done on him. He can relax a little.

Now both eyes are open and he's blinking at the ceiling, trying to recall just how he ended up here, but everything is a little hazy. He can't remember… well, much of anything if he's honest. He guesses that makes sense, if the guy outside _is_ talking about him and he's busted his head. He tests the waters a little more and wiggles his toes slowly, stretches his legs slightly, straightens his arms on top of the sheets-

Oh. Who is _that_?

He hadn't noticed there was anyone else in the room, such is his state of confusion. But now he's straightened out his arm his hand has brushed against a head of soft dark hair, her head in her arms on the edge of his bed. Her chair is pulled up against the side of his bed, and she's clearly been keeping vigil, waiting for him to wake up but she's succumbed to sleep herself. She's turned away from him so he can't see her face, but he can see her back and shoulders rising gently with each breath. And she's wearing… what is that? A cocktail dress? She seems to have stepped right out of the 60s. Maybe he crashed some kind of costume party and got himself hauled out on his ass. Who is she? This is going to be pretty damn awkward if she has the wrong room.

He must have been out cold for a while if she's fallen asleep here. Or maybe it's the middle of the night. Who knows?

He pulls his hand back as he doesn't want to disturb her and wonders what the hell is going on. Turns out he doesn't have to wait too long as he accidently wakes the mystery woman when he tries to adjust himself into a more comfortable position and manages to jostle the whole bed.

She jolts upright almost immediately, as if she's surprised at herself for drifting off, and snaps her head towards him. He feels his stomach do a weird little flip because _wow_, whoever she is, she is seriously beautiful. Even without the sixties hair and the cat-eye make-up, the dark green cocktail dress that is doing great things for her… this woman is a knockout. She has beautiful dark eyes, eyes that seem to be full of worry and relief and they're trained on him. She seems familiar somehow, but he can't for the life of him remember why.

"You're awake! Oh my God, we've been so worried." She's smiling at him, her eyes drinking in every part of his face. She's already got his hand and is squeezing it between both of her own, running her thumbs across it. "I'm going to get the doctor and Agent Christopher, I'll be right back." She's out of her chair after one more squeeze of his hand and rushing towards the door, not waiting for an answer from him. She looks back once more with a watery smile, and yep, those are tears in her eyes threatening to spill, before she zips out into the hallway calling for a Doctor Drakeman and an Agent Christopher, whoever the hell they are.

Agent? Christ, maybe this is worse than he thought. What _happened_?

Look, it's not like he's not flattered to have a beautiful woman at his bedside who is for some reason visibly worried about his wellbeing when he's clearly gotten himself into a less than desirable situation by ending up in a medical facility. He would have asked her who she was and what the hell happened to him if she had stuck around long enough, but she's gone before he can even open his mouth to reply.

Her presence has startled him, not least because he doesn't have a clue who she is. She seems to know him, or at least think she does, and has he mentioned how beautiful she is? He has a weird feeling that there's something more… he feels like she's so intrinsically _good_. She's warm and funny and smart, and does he have a god damn crush on a complete stranger that he got a five second look at because she was nice enough to keep watch over him while he was out cold? Maybe he's still drunk, because how the hell would he know what she's like as a person.

"Ah, Mr Logan, nice of you to join us." A stern looking woman in a sharp suit enters the room behind a doctor in a white lab coat, but she has a small relieved smile on her face.

The beautiful mystery woman is behind her, and a black guy with a nervous smile brings up the rear, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, we've been quite concerned. Look into the light please." The doctor – Doctor Drakeman, he introduces himself as – flashes a small torch in his eyes, takes his pulse, prods and pokes, asks him how he's feeling.

He still doesn't know what's going on. The stern looking woman lets the doctor do his work, standing aside with her arms folded. She's clearly the one in charge, but in charge of what, he's not sure. The mystery woman and the nervous guy are on the other side of his bed, trying to remain calm but they look like they've been through the wringer – tired and worried and relieved and wired, all at once. The guy is in jeans and a tshirt, his sneakers much more casual than the fancy heels the dark haired woman is wearing. They don't look like they've come from the same party, but they clearly know each other, exchanging apprehensive glances as the doctor completes his examination.

"Well, a slight concussion and a few scrapes and bruises but you've got off lightly I'd say. You've got a nasty bump on the head but we've already confirmed no fractures or stitches." Doctor Drakeman scribbles something on a clipboard. "No active duty for a week. I'll be back shortly to run some more tests, but I'll let you debrief for now." He exchanges a nod with the stern woman before departing the room.

Active duty? Debrief?

"Dude, I'm so sorry. I should have gotten the Lifeboat out of there quicker, there were so many of them and they came out of those trees from nowhere-" The nervous guy launches into some kind of explanation, his voice full of worry and apology. It sounds like they were involved in some kind of… what, ambush? Is 'The Lifeboat' the name of his car? Was he helping this guy out? He's not sure where the mystery woman comes in, but defending someone in need sounds a lot better than a drunken fist fight. Though he's sure alcohol must have played a part somewhere, because he feels like he's been run over with a truck.

"You shoulda seen Lucy though, after that guy got you with that big tree branch, she shot one of those assholes right in the leg!"

She ducks her head with a slight smile before bringing her eyes up to meet his again. "It was a lucky shot." She insists, hugging her arms to herself. He's filled with the urge to reach out and take her hand for some reason.

"I guess those one on one self-defence sessions with Wyatt have really been paying off, huh?" The black guys nudges Lucy with his shoulder and she looks at the floor with a muttered "_Rufus!"_ and a small blush.

He feels the bottom drop out of his stomach and identifies the feeling as disappointment. He doesn't know what he was expecting. She's clearly got something going with whoever this Wyatt guy is, judging by her reaction, and just because she happens to be in his hospital room doesn't mean anything. Maybe she's the Good Samaritan who helped bring him in and was staying to make sure he's ok. He'll be sad to see her go, he realises.

The stern woman clears her throat from the other side of the room, taking a step closer. "We're very happy to have you back with us Mr Logan, you gave us quite a scare there. I need you to tell us what happened when you were ambushed before you entered the Lifeboat. Rufus tells us that Emma was injured during the party so it wasn't her directly that followed you, but if you can identify any of her men-"

There it is again, _Lifeboat_. That must be one hell of a car, they seem to take it very seriously. He doesn't have a clue who Emma is, or have any recollection about whatever landed him here or why this woman would want to know about any of it. Maybe she's with the police – he remembers this Lucy woman mentioning an Agent Christopher, maybe this is her.

He must look ten different kinds of confused because Agent Christopher trails off, taking another small step towards the bed and ducking her head slightly to look into his eyes. He's pretty sure she's checking the dilation of his pupils and he wants to assure her that he's not high, but he's going to need a few things explained to him before he gives her his side of the story – which is going to be a fat lot of nothing because he can't remember a damn thing. "Wyatt… are you alright? You haven't said anything." The stern woman seems suspicious, so he might as well lay it all out there so they're all on the same page. No point in wasting police time.

"Look ma'am, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can help you. I've got one hell of a headache and I'm sure I just did what anyone would have done." Now _she_ looks confused so he keeps going. "I really don't remember what happened, but thanks for getting me here. Sounds like it could have been a lot worse." He says all of this politely and matter-of-factly, but now all three of them – Lucy, Rufus (he thinks that's the guy's name) and the stern woman – don't just look confused, they're back to worried. Lucy looks flat out anxious.

Rufus and the stern woman exchange a bewildered look across the bed before Lucy takes a step closer and takes his hand, gently this time. He looks down at it, marvelling at her touch. "Wyatt?" She says softly, but he's still looking at their joined hands. "Wyatt." She says again, more firmly now. He looks up, realising she's addressing him.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but why do you keep calling me that?" He asks, puzzled.

Lucy's eyes widen in shock, her head snapping first to Rufus, whose mouth has dropped, and then across to the stern woman who is back to frowning.

"Wyatt… do you know who we are?" The stern woman asks slowly.

He looks between her, Rufus and Lucy, who is clutching his hand even tighter now, on his other side. With a jolt he realises this woman is also addressing him as Wyatt – has already addressed his as Mr Logan – but he doesn't know who that is. In fact, he can't even remember his own name. Is his name Wyatt? A sliver of fear grips his chest and he gulps. He's not afraid of the people surrounding him. If anything, they all seem concerned for him – but he's pretty damn scared of not knowing who is he, or how he got here, and no, he realises, he doesn't know these people. Just that warm feeling he seems to have looking at the woman gripping his hand for dear life.

When he doesn't respond the stern woman sighs. "Rufus, get the doctor back in here." She turns back to him. "My name is Agent Denise Christopher, I'm with Homeland Security. Your name is Wyatt Logan, you're a Master Sergeant with Delta Force. Do you know why you're here?"

He can't move. He can't speak. She has _got _to be kidding. But this woman – this Agent Christopher – doesn't look like she kids around much. He thinks he could probably hold his own in a fight (although maybe not, judging by his recent state of unconsciousness), but Delta Force? Jeez. And where do Rufus and Lucy come into things? They sure as hell don't look like Delta Force. Maybe they're undercover agents. Lucy did supposedly shoot someone, but she claimed to have been pretty surprised by it. And he'd been giving her private self-defence tutelage? He really wished he could remember _that_.

He still hasn't said anything, he's too in shock. Lucy exchanges another look with Agent Christopher, who gives an almost indecipherable nod. Lucy takes a cautious seat on the edge of his bed, bringing his attention to her. "Wyatt," she repeats carefully, but he can tell she's freaking out. "We were in Chicago, in 1967. We were following Emma but she got away, and then we were chased into the park. Do you remember that?"

He shakes his head, utterly bewildered. "Is 1967… code for something?"

"No. We were in 1967." Lucy pauses. "The year." She's serious, he realises. Completely serious. She's waiting for recognition to dawn, but it never comes. This must be some kind of elaborate prank someone's playing on him, or he's been roofied, or _something_, because there's no way this is real. It doesn't matter how gorgeous this woman is, or how she somehow makes him want to forget everything and just gaze at her smile – although she's halfway there, he muses, because apparently he _has_ forgotten everything. He can't even remember his own goddamn name.

Wyatt. Wyatt Logan.

The doctor rushes in, followed by a worried looking Rufus, asking them all to exit the room. He watches the three of them leave, Lucy looking sadly behind her as she finally lets go of his hand. He feels like he's let her down somehow, and wants to make it right, but he doesn't know how.

The doctor is asking him questions – twelve times four, his birthday, who the president is. His name is starting to sound more familiar to him now – he's repeated it a few times and yes, his name _is_ Wyatt Logan. He's confident about that now. And yes, twelve times four is forty-eight, but he still doesn't know who those people are outside or what they want with him. He's thinking maybe he should recommend the good doctor takes a look at Lucy's head too, if she's convinced they took a hop and a skip back to the sixties. She seemed pretty serious and she's definitely dressed for the occasion. Beautiful, but maybe a little cuckoo. Damn.

The doctor recommends he get some rest, he'll be back soon after he's had a little chat with his friends outside. Are they his friends? He doesn't know, and suddenly he's so very tired. The doctor is talking, and he thinks he hears something about memory loss, but he's bone tired exhausted and he can feel his heavy eyelids drifting closed against his will. Maybe when he wakes up again he'll know more, he thinks.

* * *

"He has amnesia." Doctor Drakeman states plainly to the group waiting anxiously outside in the hallway.

"He has _what_?" Rufus squawks, as Denise shushes him, his voice echoing around the underground bunker they've been calling home lately.

Lucy has gone deathly pale. "Is it permanent?"

"No, I'd say his memories should come back with time, though how much time varies from patient to patient. He'll remember things like how to tie his shoes and how to drive a car, but you may find he's having difficulty recalling personal history or emotional memory. Certain events, certain people. Perhaps why he's even here. Ease him in gently. Let him rest for now."

"Thank you, doctor." Agent Christopher says gravely, glancing at the closed door before turning to Lucy and Rufus. "I think you should both get some rest too, I'll update you if there's any change."

"But-" Both Lucy and Rufus start to interrupt, but Denise merely holds up her palm to silence them.

"You've been through enough, and you'll be better equipped to help Wyatt after some sleep. Go. Doctor, a word before you leave." She nods to them both in dismissal before departing down the hall with Doctor Drakeman.

Lucy sighs, fixing her eyes on the closed door.

"Come on Lucy, we'll check in on him again in a few hours. He's sleeping right now, but he might wake up later and be himself again." She doesn't believe Rufus, and she's not even sure Rufus believes himself, but she lets him steer her down the hall towards her room. She could do with a shower and to get out of these vintage clothes. She's a little overdressed for their underground lair.

"I'll get Jiya to keep watch until you wake up, and Agent Christopher and Connor are here too." Rufus assures her, until she finally concedes defeat and slips into her room, bidding him goodnight. (Is it night? She honestly has no idea.)

She wants to run back to Wyatt's room and watch him for any little change, to write him ten thousand word essays about who he is and why he's so important, to hold his hand until he wakes up. She wants him to wake up, and smile at her until that dimple appears, and she'd even let him call her ma'am if it were in teasing recognition rather than tortured confusion.

She sleeps fitfully, and realises upon waking that she looks a lot less glamourous after tossing and turning for a few hours. She had flung her stupid shoes under her bed and crashed as soon as Rufus had delivered her to her little nook of the bunker, not bothering to remove the green dress she'd pilfered from '67. After a hot shower, and toning down her hair, make-up and clothes, she feels more like herself.

She feels almost nervous walking through the bunker towards the make-shift sickbay. She is, for all intents and purposes, a stranger to Wyatt now. She's not entirely sure what she's going to say to him when she gets there, but the need to see him is pulling her along.

Things have been… well, not _weird_ between them exactly, but not exactly normal either. Not that anything in their lives is normal these days. Time travel, kidnapping, her mother being a key player in an evil underground organisation, holed up in a bunker together because Rittenhouse will surely murder them if they know their whereabouts… Oh yeah, totally normal. Since her rescue from the clutches of Rittenhouse they've almost kissed twice, and Lucy would be lying to herself if she said she didn't exactly initiate either one. They've also been interrupted twice, and if she thought she had a hold on her mounting feelings for Wyatt prior to her kidnapping, she's definitely unravelling in such close proximity after her return. The world is burning around her and her feelings for him are the one thing she's clinging on to. She's fairly certain he's feeling something too – the longing looks, the lingering touches, the feel of his breath on her lips in the trunk of a car.

And now he has amnesia.

When Lucy arrives at her destination, she hesitates at the door. It's ajar, and it turns out Wyatt is awake and already has a visitor in the form of Rufus.

"So… nothing? Seriously?" Rufus says in disbelief. Lucy doesn't hear a reply and imagines Wyatt is shrugging. "Man, that's crazy. The Doc says we should all talk about stuff to jog your memory. Do you remember my name?"

"Uh, Rufus?"

"Yes!" Rufus pauses after his triumph. "Oh wait, we told you that yesterday. Shoot."

"Knock knock." Lucy finally interrupts them, pushing the door open a little further and hovering in the doorway.

Wyatt looks up, a little startled, and it's one of the few times Lucy thinks she ever seen him nervous.

"How are you feeling?" she asks him.

"Um, good, thanks." Wyatt pauses, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "Well, I actually feel like I've been sucker-punched in the head, but I guess you're not supposed to say that when someone asks how you're doing." She can see the ghost of a grimace on his face and can tell he's doing his best not to lose it.

Lucy pulls up a chair next to Rufus so they're both facing Wyatt. There's an awkward silence starting to ebb in. It's not like they've never clashed before – Lord knows it wasn't plain sailing when the three of them first met. But they were thrust into this insane situation together and that bonded them, for better or for worse, from day one. They've never really _not_ had anything to say to each other before.

"So Agent Christopher stopped by earlier to remind Wyatt of the situation down here…" Rufus is the first to break the silence. "He's having some trouble… believing her."

Lucy looks slowly from Rufus to Wyatt, who's looking wary of them both. "Look, I don't know if I'm in some kind of psych ward or what, but do you guys seriously think you're time travellers?"

"I know it's a lot to deal with, and we all had a little trouble adjusting at first. But it's true. We are, and you are, and we're doing it to stop some really awful people." Lucy's tone is gentle, and she almost reaches out for his hand yet again, but realises that might be off limits due to his current memory lapse, so holds her own hand in her lap instead.

"This guy says we have a time machine." Wyatt says incredulously, tilting his head towards Rufus.

Lucy and Rufus exchange a look of desperation. He clearly doesn't believe them or anything Agent Christopher has told him. Lucy gets the distinct impression he's not too happy about not being allowed to leave the bunker either.

"What exactly has Agent Christopher told you?" Lucy asks curiously, glancing between Wyatt and Rufus.

"Everything." Rufus states plainly, on Wyatt's behalf. "Rittenhouse, Mason Industries, Flynn, Emma. Lifeboat versus Mothership. You name it."

"All of it?" Lucy gawks, remembering Doctor Drakeman's recommendation to 'ease him in gently'.

"All of it." Rufus repeats, catching Lucy's drift. He pauses. "Agent Christopher started off nice and easy, and then… well, Jiya thought it'd have more of an impact if he just knew it all. So when she came to visit Wyatt she, uh, may have filled in some _gaps_." Rufus looks a little sheepish but Lucy can tell he's amused, despite the seriousness of Wyatt's memory loss.

"I see," Lucy tries not to smirk.

"Agent Christopher was mad." Rufus clarifies. "She was just going to tell him about the military stuff first, before the whole 'we recruited you to chase whacked out time bandits through history' thing."

Lucy turns her head towards Wyatt to see an unimpressed look on his face, arms folded. When they'd first met he'd accepted his orders from Agent Christopher, time travel and all, because that's what he'd been trained to do. But this version of Wyatt couldn't remember that part of himself and was having trouble accepting they weren't all crazy.

"Could we… show him?" The Lifeboat isn't a toy, and they'd never just taken her out for a spin before if they weren't going after Rittenhouse, but Lucy didn't see how else Wyatt was going to accept that time travel was very much real without seeing it with his own eyes.

"Connor suggested the same thing, but Agent Christopher said it's too dangerous. I'll try again though." Rufus sighs. "I'll be back later, dude." Wyatt mock salutes him as he rises to leave. "See if you can get through to him… If anyone can, you can." Rufus mutters to Lucy before he departs the room and she and Wyatt are left alone.

"So…" Lucy begins, looking around. She finds she can't quite meet his eyes, unsure of what to say. They haven't been like this in such a long time, and even when their friendship was fledgling they were always sniping at one another, so it wasn't like they had nothing to say to each other. When she looks up she finds he's looking directly at her, but not in a mean way. He's curious.

"You know this sounds insane, right?" He asks, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, I know." She concedes with a small smile and a shrug. "I thought so too, when we started. And it still is crazy, but we're doing something good."

There's another silence but it's a little less awkward now. She thinks she might be getting through to him.

"Listen… I'm sorry if this is weird for you. It's definitely weird for me. I mean, time travel? I thought I'd just woken up hungover. It's a lot to swallow." He pauses. "I feel like we should start over. I'm Wyatt. Apparently." He holds out his hand.

Lucy can't help but smile, and takes his hand in amusement to shake it. Wyatt is still in there somewhere. "Lucy."

"Lucy." He repeats, committing it to memory. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"You really don't have to call me ma'am." She insists drily. "We're practically-"

"-the same age." He finishes for her, a look of confusion passing over his face. "Have we had this conversation before?"

"Yes." Lucy laughs. "But I'm pretty sure you were saying it to annoy me then. It was the night we met."

"Huh. Deja vu." He looks into her eyes for a beat longer than he should, trying to work something out. "Sorry." He says again, shaking his head when he realises he's been staring. "It's just… You remind me of someone."

"Maybe it's me." Lucy smiles.

Wyatt smiles too, a dimple appearing in his cheek. He mentally checks himself. He shouldn't be taken in by a pretty face if they really are all batshit crazy around here and they're playing some kind of long con – because _time travel_? Secret evil organisations? He's not totally sold on the whole thing yet. But Lucy _does_ seem familiar to him, more than just as a fleeting face he might have seen on the street. He feels like he knows her. He somehow knows that she likes apple and cinnamon herbal tea, that she's a wealth of historical information, that one of her biggest pet peeves is people folding down the corner page of a book instead of using a bookmark…

Woah. Where did that come from?

He clears his throat. "Thanks for watching out for me when I was… y'know." He taps his temple, referencing his accident. "Rufus told me you shot someone in the leg when I was out of it. Very impressive."

"You're a good teacher. But I'm not totally convinced it wasn't a fluke."

"Oh yeah, the soldier thing." He nods. "I feel like I didn't exactly bring my A game if I got knocked out."

"It wasn't your fault. It was mine." Lucy looks guilty. "There were four of them, they'd followed us. You got two of them down pretty quickly, but then one of them grabbed me and I couldn't angle myself to get an elbow to the groin like you taught me, and I screamed… So you went after him and got a good punch in. Enough so he dropped me. You were going at it, long enough for me to grab one of the other goon's guns… but then his friend got you from behind. So I shot him in the leg and Rufus and I got you in the Lifeboat."

"Wow. Is it always that exciting?"

"Pretty much."

"I should have taught you to go for the instep."

"You did, but he'd lifted me off the ground. Couldn't reach."

"Huh. Sounds like we covered a lot." Wyatt runs a thoughtful palm across his jaw. "You must be a good student."

"I don't know… I accidently punched you in the jaw a couple of weeks ago." Lucy looks guilty.

Wyatt's hand pauses at his jaw, he hadn't even realised he'd been doing it. "Boxing pads."

"What?"

"We were practicing swings, and I didn't think you were close enough to get me, and then you did." He laughs, and flexes his jaw at the shadow of the memory. "We should get you some boxing pads. It's a better target to aim for."

"You remember that?" Lucy says hopefully. That was only two weeks ago.

"I don't know…" Wyatt says slowly. "It's like… it's almost there. On the edge."

Wyatt seems lost in thought and Lucy can't help being reminded of returning from their very first jump to 1937, when she came back and everything had changed. But this time, she reminds herself, it's still the same Wyatt. She hasn't lost him. She's lost so much lately, but she hasn't lost him. He's still in there.

"Do you have your phone?" Lucy suddenly asks.

Wyatt looks around. "I don't think so. Rufus brought me some clothes but no phone."

"Let's take a walk." Lucy suggests, standing up. "Around the bunker. It's probably in your room. "

"Isn't this my room?" Wyatt frowns, following her to the door.

"No, just a makeshift sickbay. The bedrooms are down the hall. Less draughty." She watches him taking in his surroundings as they exit, the lack of windows and dim lighting. "It's not exactly five-star, but it's better than having a target on your back."

He follows her the length of corridor in silence, mulling over Lucy's casual remark about how some very bad people would murder them in a heartbeat given half the chance. They take a left and then another corridor. The bunker is like an underground maze but they're all getting used to it as time goes on.

When they reach Wyatt and Rufus's room Lucy knocks, double checking Rufus isn't in there before letting herself in. And there's Wyatt's phone right where he left it before their ill-fated mission, charging on the chair by his bed.

Wyatt lets out a low whistle. "Who's the messy one?"

"Definitely Rufus." Lucy laughs. "You're a military man."

She touches him briefly on the arm as she walks by to retrieve his phone, but to Wyatt it feels like a lightning bolt has struck him where he stands. She had clutched his hand in hers the night before in the midst of all the confusion and somehow that had felt right... Comforting. She hasn't touched him since, but that brief point of contact is sending sparks through him. Who _is _this woman? This woman who seems so kind, so fierce, so wise. This woman who he feels like he knows, somehow, even though he can't remember much of anything. If they _are_ all crazy, Wyatt muses, and are plotting to kill him with their mad talk of time travel, then staring into the beautiful dark eyes of Lucy Preston wouldn't be a bad way to spend his last few hours.

Wait. Had she told him her last name?

She perches on the edge of his bed, unplugging his phone from the charger, and holds it out to him. "Look at some pictures to jog your memory. Your phone survived the explosion, so there'll be some good ones. All of our flattering outfits."

"Explosion?" Wyatt exclaims, eyebrows raised as he takes the phone from her outstretched hand. He sits next to her, a little closer than he intended. It's so she can see the phone and point out people and places to him he reasons to himself, but he wonders if it's because he always likes to sit close to Lucy.

"Oh… right." Lucy falters, momentarily forgetting that Wyatt is pretty much a blank slate at the moment. "Rittenhouse – the bad guys – blew up our old base. That's why we're here, in hiding. A lot of people think we're dead. And if they knew where we were, they'd probably try and blow us up again."

"That's rough." Wyatt grimaces, sensing this is a sensitive topic, and enters the code to unlock his phone to distract them both. "Hey. That must be a good sign, right?"

"Well… yes and no. The doctor said you'd remember things like that, muscle memory stuff. It's the emotional side that might take a while to come back." She seems so sad, and all Wyatt wants to do is reach over and wrap his arms around her. He's still not sure if that's allowed, or something he would do if his memory was intact, so he refrains, opening up the photos on his phone instead.

The first thing he sees is an ugly selfie of Rufus, seemingly trying to fit as many chins in one picture as is humanly possible. He guesses if he's stupid enough to leave his phone unattended then that's what happens. A few he guesses are tactical plans, with salt shakers and sugar cubes representing God only knows what. A few shots from around the bunker. He taps one of Lucy with her hair tied with a green ribbon, wearing a flouncy poodle skirt and a red jacket draped over her shoulders. She's not looking, listening to someone not in the shot, unaware her picture has been taken.

"Oh. I didn't know you took that." Is she blushing?

"I can say with total honesty right now, neither did I." He smiles softly at her. "Might be a different story when my memory comes back. Another costume party?" Lucy frowns, waiting for him to clarify. "You were wearing a pretty fancy party dress when I woke up last night."

"I wish they were just costume parties." She smiles a little sadly. "This was 1955."

He doesn't comment further, still undecided about whether he buys into this time travel story they've concocted. He scrolls down into an older section and finds happier shots – Rufus and Lucy and Wyatt in a variety of era-appropriate clothing, posing together, beaming at the camera. At a bar with Jiya, in someone's apartment having dinner. He can see in their faces that they're all stressed and tired but these photos are somehow lighter. He surmises they must be from before they had to (literally) go underground, when they were still free to live their lives.

Another one further back catches his eye: Wyatt in a sharp looking suit, Lucy in a pink floaty dress. Both he and Lucy have been caught unaware and she's straightening his tie. Something stirs in the recesses of his brain and his stomach flips for reasons unknown to him.

"What's going on here?" Wyatt asks, tapping on the image so it fills the screen.

"Uh… Bonnie and Clyde." Lucy clarifies, and she won't meet his eye. She's definitely got a blush creeping up her neck now. Wyatt waits for her to explain, but she's not forthcoming except to name the date and place. "Arkansas, 1934." He waits again, not having a clue what she's talking about which only induces her to ramble. "You'd forgotten to leave your phone in your locker so you handed it over to Jiya before we had to change our outfits for the jump, and I guess she must have taken this before putting it away. Agent Christopher was rushing us and you came out of the dressing room with your tie all loose…"

It's a cute picture. It almost looks intimate, neither of them looking at the camera and Wyatt can definitely see a hint of a smile on his face as he's looking down at Lucy concentrating on his tie. He wonders if there's something she's not telling him.

She's looking at the photo of the two of them, lost in thought. There's something important about this, he can feel it, but the memory won't come. Whatever it is makes his pulse race and he has an insane urge to reach out and cup Lucy's cheek in the palm of his hand. He's not sure if it's whatever lost memory this picture is inspiring that's making him feel this way or the proximity of Lucy sat next to him.

He's starting to think that maybe, just maybe, they might not be lying to him after all. He's looking at definitive proof on his own phone in front of him that he knows these people. He clearly has a history with them, and that history includes a bunch of questionable historical outfits. He's in a secret underground facility that's he's not permitted to leave and Agent Christopher doesn't seem the type for joking about such serious matters.

And then there's Lucy. He _knows_ her. He knows he does, he can feel it in his gut. He might not be able to remember all of the particulars, but when he looks at her he can sense that she's important to him. They're definitely friends. The series of photos on his phone is proof enough that the small team in his immediate vicinity has a bond that's been created under very unique circumstances. But Wyatt is wondering exactly what the deal is with him and Lucy. She's concerned for him, that much is obvious. But there's something else, something lingering and electric between them that Wyatt can't explain.

He can't ask her. He's lost his memory and if he comes out with "Hey, is there something going on with us?" she might be horrified. He's not playing with a full deck right now so he figures it's best to let Lucy tell him on her own terms or at least wait for his memory to return. (Or he could ask Jiya. She seems to be pretty upfront about a lot of things.)

"Are you ok?" Wyatt asks instead.

Lucy's head snaps up. She'd been gazing at the photo for a while. "Oh, yeah. Fine. That was… a memorable trip."

"Really? Why?"

Lucy opens her mouth to answer but closes it again, thinking better of it. Does he imagine it, or do her eyes flit to his lips for the briefest of seconds? He registers again how close they're sitting and can't help but notice that he can feel every part of her leg pressed against his, her arm brushing his, their heads bent together to examine the phone. His eyes aren't quite as quick as hers and he's definitely sure she's caught him looking at _her_ lips. He has a spooky feeling of déjà vu all over again.

Before anything can happen an alarm blares throughout the bunker, taking him by surprise. Lucy is already on her feet with panic in her eyes.

"What the hell is that?" Wyatt has to shout over the noise.

"Rittenhouse." Lucy says gravely, already leading him out of the room towards the control room where Agent Christopher, Connor Mason, Jiya and Rufus are waiting for them.

Jiya is typing furiously on a keyboard, the other three waiting tentatively over her shoulder.

"Chicago again. 1977." Jiya confirms, frowning at her screen. "Same location, different decade."

"So Emma's gone back for something." Connor muses. "Perhaps the fruition of the plans she put in place during your last excursion."

"Lucy, 1977. What happened?" Agent Christopher turns to Lucy, a frown on her face.

Lucy huffs out a breath, collecting her thoughts. "The cause of Legionnaire's disease is discovered, the ban on travel by U.S citizens to Vietnam and Cuba is lifted, Jimmy Carter cancels the B-1 Bomber program. I don't know how any of that relates to Chicago though."

_Woah_, Wyatt thinks. Lucy is incredible.

"Dig around when you get there. I want you to keep a low profile, do not engage with Emma and keep out of sight. You don't have Wyatt backing you up and I can't cross my own timeline. Jiya, you're up."

"Really?" Jiya perks up at her desk, a smile lighting up her features.

"Really. Wyatt's off active duty, and Rufus and Lucy will need all the help they can get."

"Wait a second," Wyatt interjects without thinking. "I can go. If I've got this muscle memory you keep telling me about, I can go with them and help, right?"

"He's got a point." Rufus agrees. "He almost floored me when I stopped by this morning unannounced. Those spidey-senses are ingrained in his brain, memory loss or not."

Wyatt has the good grace to look sheepish. "Sorry, man. I still didn't know what was happening and all."

"No, it's too risky. Wyatt still has a mild concussion and amnesia, I can't send him out into the field. Take Jiya, and lay low. You'll have to wait on the side-lines for this one, I'm sorry Wyatt."

"Sorry man, I tried." Rufus claps him on the shoulder. He and Jiya are already dragging a set of steps towards a giant imposing looking machine.

"If you're not totally sold on the time-travel-is-real thing yet, at least you'll be convinced after this!" Jiya calls to him gleefully before disappearing into the hatch.

"Will you be ok?" Wyatt murmurs, catching Lucy's arm before she joins the others. "Without backup?"

"We don't normally go without you, but like Agent Christopher says, we'll lay low, stay out of sight. Do our best not to change history." She smiles up at him. His hand has slipped down her arm and she closes the gap between their hands, squeezing his for reassurance. "We'll be fine. Maybe when I get back your memory will be back too." She squeezes his hand once more before boarding the Lifeboat, and he can't help but admire her bravery.

Connor pulls the steps away and Agent Christopher advises Wyatt to stand back. A small part of him still thinks time travel is a whackadoodle idea, and if they're going to crap out on their elaborate story, it would be now. But seconds later the Lifeboat blinks out of the present with an almighty whoosh and Wyatt is left wide-eyed and speechless.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Connor notices his wonder.

"I take it you believe us now?" Denise comments with amusement.

"I guess so." Wyatt gulps in return, his eyes raking over the now empty space in front of him. Time travel is real. That was an _actual_ time machine and it just disappeared before his very eyes, taking Lucy, Rufus and Jiya with it. Something he supposedly does on a regular basis himself. Unbelievable.

"Will they be ok? Without backup?" Wyatt asks hurriedly, following Connor and Denise as they retreat back towards the computers.

"They'll have to be." Denise replies gravely. "We don't have any other options. And don't tell me you could have gone." She holds up her hand at Wyatt, who was clearly about to protest.

A few hours later they still haven't returned and Wyatt doesn't know what to do with himself. He's walked the length of the bunker a number of times, made countless cups of coffee and can barely concentrate on TV. He's in the kitchen making yet another cup of coffee when Connor appears.

"How are you feeling, Mr Logan?" he enquires lightly, as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Fine." Wyatt replies, clearly wound tightly. He's beside himself with worry, which he finds odd considering from his perspective he's just met these people. Why should he be so concerned? But then, he thinks, his subconscious is probably more invested in their welfare and even though his brain doesn't remember, it's telling the rest of his body to react accordingly.

He believes them now. He's part of this team and he damn well needs to get his memory back. He doesn't like being the one left behind.

"Anything coming back at all?" Connor asks politely, taking a seat at the table opposite Wyatt and turning a page in his book.

"Not much." Wyatt comments, perturbed that Connor can be so relaxed when his team is out there putting themselves directly in the line of fire.

"Oh I wouldn't say that." Connor replies with amusement. "Your near constant state of agitation over Ms Preston's wellbeing is nothing new."

Wyatt can only stare at him in shock. He's worried about Lucy a lot? "What's that supposed to mean?"

Connor nonchalantly turns another page in his book before responding. "Oh nothing, nothing. I'm sure you'll figure it out in time. In fact, I quite thought you had figured it out before this pesky bout of amnesia."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you sure?" Connor looks up, clearly amused. "Well, if you say so. If you could figure it out in say-" He checks his watch. "-the next week or so, I'd be very grateful."

"Why?" Wyatt is more confused than ever.

"No reason." Connor replies innocently.

"Mr Mason!" Denise interrupts them with a frown on her face, striding into the kitchen. "I hope you haven't been taking bets with Jiya and Rufus again. We've talked about this."

"I couldn't possibly imagine what you're referring to." Connor replies aghast, and Wyatt gets the distinct impression that Denise isn't buying it.

"I think you do. And it's not professional." She tells him shrewdly.

"Well, we have to pass the time somehow, don't we?" Connor tells her almost gleefully.

Denise narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to no doubt reprimand him yet again, but never gets the chance as the alarm blares, signalling the return of the Lifeboat. All three of them are on their on their feet, rushing towards the newly landed time machine, anxiously awaiting the opening of the hatch. Jiya emerges first, looking sweaty and tired, clad in bright yellow bell-bottomed pants, an ugly striped top that she's somehow making look good and feathered earrings. Rufus follows her in a brown high-waisted pants and V-neck sweater combo, atop the widest collared orange shirt Wyatt thinks he's ever seen. Lucy is the last to exit in knee-high boots and a little slip of a vibrantly blue patterned dress. Wyatt has to remind himself that Denise just reprimanded Connor for professionalism and averts his gaze away from Lucy's thighs.

"Well? How did it go?" Denise asks when they've all descended the steps.

"They tried to take the Lifeboat again." Rufus says tiredly, pulling at his wide open collar. "We had to run. I purposefully chose a non-running career path."

"We found Emma holed up with a bunch of mafia guys, she was making some kind of long term weapons deal with them. Started with the father in '67, picking up with the son in '77. We were laying low, just like you said, but one of her guys recognised us." Jiya continues.

"How did they try and take the Lifeboat?" Connor asks.

"I think it's just an opportunistic thing. We thought we lost them for a few hours, like last time, but they must have been following us. Luckily we got inside and out of there before they could force their way in." Lucy answers with a heavy voice. Wyatt is overcome with the urge to reach out for her again.

"One of Emma's guys was trying to get in the door when we'd sealed it. I could explain in detail what happened to him when we jumped, but it's kind of gross." Jiya whispers loudly.

"Do you know who the crime family is that Emma's dealing with? Could they be sleepers?" Denise keeps the conversation on track.

"The Spinelli's. I've never heard of them, but that could be exactly what Emma wants. Make a small fish big, nurture it over time, turn them into what she wants." Lucy shrugs. "I'll do some research."

"Hmm, good work. Turn in for now, Mr Mason and I will make a start." Denise concludes, dismissing them all.

"We will?" Connor asks sulkily.

"Well, we have to pass the time somehow, don't we?" Denise replies sarcastically, throwing his own words back at him.

Rufus and Jiya leave them to their sniping, heading off to the depths of the bunker. Now their debriefing is over, Lucy has turned her attention back to Wyatt.

"How's your head?" She asks hopefully.

"I haven't had any epiphanies." He shrugs apologetically. "But it's only been a few hours." He pauses, knowing what he wants to ask her, but unsure how to go about it. It's not like he's asking her out… He doesn't know if that's even allowed, or if he were himself what she'd say to that. When his memory comes back he might kick himself over this, but right now, he just knows he wants to spend more time with her. He feels something for Lucy, and even though he doesn't have the full set of memories that created this gut feeling, it's still there nonetheless. "Uh, I was thinking, maybe we could talk some more. Jog my memory a little. If you're not too tired." He suddenly remembers she's been on a freaking undercover time travel mission and yes, she probably is too tired. Good one, Wyatt.

She surprises him though with a small smile. "I'd like that." They've stopped outside a door he's not familiar with, and it turns out he's been walking her back to her bedroom. "Let me get cleaned up a little. Maybe burn this dress."

"You look great." Wyatt says sincerely. He has a feeling he's thought that a thousand times before.

Lucy snorts. She's bedraggled and sweaty and tired, and she clearly doesn't believe him but he means it. She's beautiful.

"Give me half an hour." She tells him with a smile.

"Sure thing." He smiles in return, making one of his cheeks dimple. He turns to leave but then realises he doesn't exactly know where he's going. "Um-"

"End of the hall, first left." Lucy clarifies for him, before letting herself into her room.

"Right," Wyatt nods.

* * *

When he gets back to his own room, Rufus and Jiya are already there. Jiya is sprawled out on Rufus's bed and Rufus himself is absently scribbling complicated looking equations in a notebook.

"Hey there, Mr Forgetful!" Jiya greets him with a grin.

"Are you always this hilarious?" Wyatt asks her sarcastically, taking a seat on his own bed.

"Always." Jiya tells him solemnly.

"How are you feeling, man?" Rufus asks, looking up from his workings. "Bet you're getting tired of that question."

Wyatt shrugs. "I don't feel like I've been hit with a baseball bat so much anymore. It's weird though, not knowing stuff. I feel… I don't know, kind of out of the loop."

"It'll come back." Jiya regards him sympathetically, then perks up as if she's had a brilliant idea. "Hey, why don't we knock you out again? That always works on TV."

"How about no?" Wyatt tells her.

"Party pooper."

"Lucy said you guys looked at some pictures earlier? Did that bring anything back?" Rufus asks, closing his notebook.

"Sort of." Wyatt comments off-handedly, thinking of the warm feeling looking at Lucy gives him, the sparks of electricity between them, the urge to reach out and wrap his arms around her. Is it his imagination, or is Jiya giving him a very knowing smirk? "What?" he asks her bluntly.

Jiya opens her mouth to reply but Rufus cuts her off. "Jiya." He warns.

"What?" Jiya fires back at Rufus. "You're just mad that it's _my_ week and I stand more of a chance if I tell him-"

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"I'm not being ridiculous, _you're_ being ridiculous-"

"How am I being ridiculous?"

"Because Wyatt doesn't have his memory, so he can act purely on his gut instincts without all the other crap holding him back! And it's _my_ week on the chart so I stand a chance at winning." Jiya concludes triumphantly. "And you're trying to block me."

"Hey, I'm just thinking of Wyatt's health-"

"Oh please, you were the one that told him he was in love with her in the first place-"

"And you're the one that barged in on them after I told you that when we got back and set up the bet with Connor, and I had the first week-"

Wyatt clears his throat loudly, interrupting their bickering. They've clearly forgotten he's been there the whole time. They both turn to him with matching guilty expressions followed by sheepish grins.

"What exactly are you betting on?" Wyatt asks them patiently.

"Nothing." Both Jiya and Rufus reply in unison.

"Ok." Wyatt huffs. "Let's try again. Do you think I'm in love with Lucy?"

"Oh, no, we don't think you're in love with Lucy." Jiya pauses mischievously. "We know you are."

"Jiya…" Rufus groans, putting his head in his hands.

"What? I'm helping Wyatt."

"When his memory comes back, he's going to kill you." Rufus hisses at her. "And then he's going to kill me."

"Guys!" Wyatt interrupts them again.

"Look," Rufus sighs. "You and Lucy have been through a lot together. I know you don't remember right now, but Lucy was kidnapped a while ago and you were bug-eyed crazy worried about her. I tried to talk to you about it-"

"Yeah, it sounded like a really rational conversation…" Jiya mutters.

Rufus shoots her a glare before continuing. "-but you haven't exactly admitted anything."

"So we're… just friends?" Wyatt questions.

"Dude, you don't exactly look at her like you're just friends. You look at her like she's your whole freakin' world."

"That's… a lot to take on board." Wyatt is a little stunned, but he can't say he's entirely surprised based on what he feels when he looks at Lucy. "What do I do?"

"Go and talk to her!" Jiya tells him, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"What do I say? We can't leave this bunker and because of this god damn amnesia I've known her about a day. Great start."

"Then tell her you can't stop thinking about her. I bet that hasn't changed, amnesia or no amnesia." Jiya smirks.

"Do we normally talk about this or are you extorting information from me right now?" Wyatt asks suspiciously, standing and making his way to the door.

"I guess you'll never know." Jiya says innocently. "Now go."

Wyatt does as he's told, but he needs a minute. When he's outside the door, Jiya and Rufus must think he's already on his way because he can overhear their conversation.

"Think he'll be ok?" Jiya asks Rufus.

Rufus snorts. "They almost made out in the trunk of a car a couple of weeks back. I'm sure they'll find something to talk about. Or not talk about."

Wyatt walks away to the sound of their muffled laughter, eyes wide. He still doesn't know what he's going to say to Lucy, or if he's going to take Rufus and Jiya's advice, but he finds himself knocking on her door regardless. If nothing else, he'll get to spend more time with her. He wonders if she knows their supposed friends are betting on them. Surely that must mean she feels something too if they're confident enough to place wagers? He's contemplating asking her to explain their personal history to him when she opens the door, pink cheeked and clean from the shower.

"Hi," she greets him with a smile, standing back to allow him entry.

Her room is as sparse as his and Rufus's, with a few clothes and books strewn here and there. He figures Jiya must have the same messy trait in common with Rufus as one side is much more orderly than the other and it's the side Lucy gravitates to after closing the door behind him. She takes a seat on the edge of her bed. Although there's plenty of room for him to sit next to her, and she didn't seem to object to him sitting closely to her earlier in the day, Wyatt isn't entirely sure what the protocol is now. He opts for the safe territory of the chair next to her bed.

"So…" he starts, feeling a little nervous. "How was your trip?"

Lucy sighs. "Tiring. I don't know how much useful intel we gathered, I guess we'll have to wait and see."

"Is it always that dangerous?" Wyatt thinks he already knows the answer. He vaguely recalls gunfire, being chased, sore knuckles after throwing a dozen punches. Ghosts of memories on the edge of his mind.

"Today wasn't so bad. I mean, I had a gun pointed at me, but I wasn't kidnapped or tied to a stake or drugged, so it's pretty much a win." She's grinning. Wyatt isn't sure whether he should be entertained or concerned by her attitude towards danger.

"We were worried about you." Wyatt offers, leaning forward. He pauses. "Connor said… he said I'm worried about you a lot."

Lucy's quiet for a beat. "Well, you care about us. We're a team."

Wyatt waits to see if she offers anything more. He gets the distinct impression that she's being very careful. "Right. A team."

"Yep." She agrees. They hold each other's gaze for a moment, before Lucy looks away and changes the subject. "So did you want to talk a little more? Try and jog your memory?"

Wyatt sits back. Maybe it's best to keep things neutral. He's not sure what he's doing, or what answers he's trying to coax out of Lucy. If he is as in love with her as his teammates claim, he should probably wait for his memory to return before discussing it with her. There might be a very good reason they're not already together and he could potentially be making a total ass of himself. He's definitely not sure ignorance is bliss in this case.

"Yeah," he says, smiling. "I feel like if we talk it might come back to me. Like our missions – what's the best one?"

"For you, maybe Germany 1944. You met Ian Fleming." She grins when she sees the look of surprise on Wyatt's face.

"_The_ Ian Fleming?"

"He was very charming. You didn't love him though."

"No way, not possible. Why not?"

"You had…" Lucy is careful with her answer. "A difference of opinion. Tactics, things like that." She doesn't mention Rufus's insistence that it's because he had repeatedly hit on Lucy. "Or maybe when we went to 1955. Turns out you're pretty good with race cars."

"You always say I'm a careful driver." Wyatt says without thinking.

Lucy is surprised. It's true, she does say that. She remembers the first time she was in a car with Wyatt outside of the office, when he'd offered to pick her up so she wouldn't have to take a cab. They were becoming friends. Proper not-just-colleagues friends, and they were meeting Rufus for a drink after the horrendous jump to 1754. He'd gotten out of his car and come to the door to collect her, and she recalls with mortification hearing her mother interrogating him like a prom date downstairs before she'd realised he'd arrived. Wyatt had taken it all in his stride, even the part when Carol enquired if he knew her daughter was engaged to a doctor. Lucy had thought at the time Carol was five seconds away from asking Wyatt what his intentions with her were and had hustled him out the door pretty quickly.

When they'd been driving to the store to pick Rufus up some surprise Chocodiles, Lucy had noted with amazement what a careful driver Wyatt was, waiting for her to secure her seatbelt before they set off, always checking his mirrors and driving within the speed limit.

"Only in the present. You're more reckless when we steal cars in the past." Lucy teases, seeing how much he'll remember.

"That's what you said to me, the night I picked you up and we met Rufus at that bar." Wyatt frowns in concentration. "That's why you were surprised, because I drive like a reckless hothead in the past."

"I did say that." Lucy smiles jubilantly. "Can you remember where we'd been? Which jump?"

"No…" Wyatt rubs his eyes. "But it was a bad one, right? That's why we were going out for drinks."

"Yeah. We'd earned it."

Wyatt looks up suddenly, a mischievous smile on his face. "Your mom didn't like me."

Lucy's mouth drops open, and she blushes a little. "Yeah, well, my mom is kind of unbalanced due to the whole unwavering Rittenhouse loyalty thing, so I wouldn't be too offended…"

"I think I thought it was funny… We talked about it, in the car."

For the first time since Wyatt's head injury, Lucy wishes he wouldn't remember this particular conversation. She's as embarrassed now as she was then.

* * *

_(flashback)_

"Your mom really, _really_ wanted to make sure I knew you were engaged." Wyatt says evenly, but Lucy can hear the smile in his voice. She looks over and even though he's concentrating on the road ahead of them, she can see the smirk on his face. "Guess she really likes Noah, huh?"

"I guess." Lucy says nonchalantly, looking out of her window.

"How'd she take you coming home?"

"She thinks I've temporarily gone crazy and will come back to my senses any day now. 'Just so long as it's a break, not a break up.' She's been pretty vocal about it." Lucy tries to keep her tone light, but Wyatt glances over at her and his smirk fades. He can tell this has been hard on her.

"She'll understand. She's your mom." He assures her gently.

"Maybe." Lucy replies quietly. Her mother has always pushed her, has always wanted what was best for her, and Lucy has always gone with it, because who is she to question the great Carol Preston? Why should that not extend to matrimonial bliss? Only now, with Lucy pushing back, Carol doesn't seem to like it. "I'm sorry if she was being overbearing just now. I didn't know you were downstairs. I would have come out to the car."

"Door to door service, ma'am. Of course I came to the door. Who doesn't come to the door?" He says in disbelief.

Lucy rolls her eyes. Wyatt is nothing if not an infuriating gentleman. "Anyway, I'm still sorry."

"Don't sweat it. Moms usually like me though, maybe I'm rusty."

"It's those military manners." Lucy is the one smirking now. "What did she say to you?" She asks curiously.

"She asked me what I did, told me you were engaged to a doctor, made it very clear you were unavailable and even if you were, I wasn't good enough. You know, normal stuff." Wyatt is grinning again.

"Oh my God," Lucy groans, hiding her face in her hands. "Thanks, Mom."

"Don't worry, I told her we were just friends." His eyes are on the road, but Lucy picks up on his gentler tone. He turns to her with a grin, one of his cheeks dimpling. "She told me it had better stay that way."

"Well, that's mortifying." Lucy mutters, looking straight ahead.

When Lucy had gotten home a few hours later, Wyatt had walked her back up to the front porch and their goodnight hug had been interrupted by Carol unceremoniously opening the door and pointedly telling Lucy it was getting late.

_(flashback ends)_

* * *

Wyatt is laughing now. "I thought she was going to march me back to my car and tell me to stay away from her daughter!"

"She had a conversation with me about loyalty and my head not being turned by a pretty face." Lucy is embarrassed, but relents to laughter as well.

"How did she take the breakup?"

"We never actually got a chance to talk about it, but Rittenhouse kidnapped me not long after, so I'm guessing not well."

"Ouch."

They talk more about their missions and about the famous historical people they've met. He cross checks what Jiya and Agent Christopher have told him with Lucy's side of the story, filling in some blanks himself as things come back to him. He remembers little things – Lucy's clumsiness, Jiya's addiction to Scrabble, Rufus's love of sushi. It's not all there by a long stretch, but this is a good start. They've been talking for a while, and the rickety wooden chair isn't the most comfortable thing in the world, so he's migrated to sit next to Lucy in the middle of her bed, their backs leaning against the wall, facing Jiya's messy side of the room.

"Hey, thanks for doing this." Wyatt says softly, turning his head to look at her. They're sitting shoulder to shoulder, close enough to count every eyelash if he wanted. "I know it must be weird, telling me what I should already know."

"It's ok," Lucy assures him. "It's kind of nice, actually. There's not a whole lot to smile about some days."

She's looking into his eyes so intently it makes him blink. He can see her thinking about something important, but she's not saying anything out loud. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Lucy looks away, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Hey." Wyatt nudges her shoulder gently. When she doesn't look up, he doesn't resist the urge to take her hand this time. His touch makes her tense for a millisecond, before he feels her grip tighten and her eyes wander back up to his.

"It's just… it's stupid because you're right here but I… I miss you." She shrugs a small shrug.

"I'm here." But he knows what she means and he can't help but feel guilty. She misses the Wyatt she knows. The one who knows her, has risked his life countless times for her, would go to the end of the Earth for her. The one who knows her secrets, how she takes her tea, her nervous habits, her favourite colour. She's worried he's lost and he wants more than anything to reassure her, because disappointing Lucy Preston is not an option. "I'm in here somewhere. I promise. You just need to remind me."

He'd expected her to keep talking. To tell him things like his preference for spy novels, his lecturing Rufus every time he catches him cheating at a board game, the languages he knows.

He's caught off guard when she reaches up to lightly brush his jaw with her fingertips. His own hand closes over hers on his cheek, her touch stirring the ghost of a memory. He can almost taste the burn of cheap alcohol in his throat for some reason, feel her eyelashes on his own cheeks. He knows before she closes the gap between them that her lips are deliciously soft, that her kiss will set off fireworks in his entire body. When she kisses him it feels like coming home – that's the only way Wyatt can think to describe the sensation of pure energy coursing through him as he surges against her. He feels both safe and electrified and absolutely certain that this is right. His hands find purchase at her waist, his arms wrapping around her. He's as much nudging her backwards down onto the bed as she is pulling him down with her, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek as her fingers card through his hair.

They've done this before, or something like it, he's certain. The feel of her lips on his, the surprise of the reaction it invokes in him, the way his hand cups her cheek so perfectly. Her kiss is so familiar to him. His tongue slides with hers, her teeth nipping at his lower lip making him groan. In this moment he doesn't care that his memory is lost, he doesn't care that he apparently has a target on his back, he doesn't care that time travel is real and that it comes with a whole pile of crazy baggage that he's neck deep in. All that matters is that he keeps kissing Lucy and she keeps kissing him. He can build a lifetime of memories on this feeling.

An almighty clang of metal from somewhere in the bunker makes them both jolt in surprise. It's followed by some impressive British cursing, leading Lucy to comment that Connor must be making some Lifeboat adjustments.

Wyatt is suddenly acutely aware that he's lying on top of Lucy. Her hands are still tangled in his hair and his hand is gripping her thigh from where it had been sliding down the length of her leg seconds before. His lips are just a breath away from hers and he can feel her heart beating quickly, as he's sure she can feel his, their chests pressed together.

"That's one hell of a reminder." Wyatt lets out a shaky breath.

Her eyes are widening, as if realising what she's just done. "Wyatt, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, don't be sorry." He tells her softly. They're both sitting up again and Lucy has her face hidden in her palms. He gently pulls her hands away, holding them in his own and ducking his head to catch her eyes. "I wasn't complaining."

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you, you've lost your memory. It's not fair to you to… to…" She's blushing slightly. "You're not in your right mind."

"Lucy, I'm pretty sure if I were in my right mind, I wouldn't mind you taking advantage of me. Hell, I'd be telling you to take advantage of me."

She smiles a small smile but doesn't seem completely convinced. "But you should still have your memories back if we… if anything happens… You should be… you." She's fumbling with her choice of words. "Oh God, not that you're not _you_, I just meant-"

"I know what you meant, Lucy." He cuts her off with a smile, still clutching both of her hands in his own. "It's ok. We can wait for the amnesia to wear off. I'm pretty sure I've been dying to do that for a while anyway. I can remember _that_ feeling."

"Really?"

"All day, every time I've looked at you, I've wanted to kiss you. I get the feeling I think about that a lot."

"Wyatt…"

They're leaning in again, their lips barely touching when an angry bark makes them both jolt apart.

"_WHAT IS GOING ON?"_ Agent Christopher's fury echoes down the corridor.

For a split second Wyatt thinks they've been caught out before his eyes snap open and he realises no one is bursting through the still closed door. Lucy looks equally frazzled, her head tilted trying to work out the situation. They hear quick footsteps which can only belong to Rufus and Jiya running past the bedroom door towards the control room.

Wyatt closes his eyes and sighs, leaning his forehead briefly against Lucy's. "Duty calls."

"I guess we'd better…"

"Yeah." Wyatt hauls himself off the bed, pulling Lucy to her feet as well. He doesn't drop her hands. "I know whatever's happening out there is kind of killing the mood, but can we talk more about this after the next crisis is solved?"

Lucy beams, answering him with a soft kiss. She squeezes his hand, making her way towards the door. They drop their entwined hands before they come into view of everyone else, but Wyatt swears he sees Jiya do the smallest of double-takes when they join the fray.

"Explain." Agent Christopher is seething, they can practically feel it radiating in waves. Rufus is perched atop the Lifeboat steps, peering in to the sealed hatch while Jiya frets with an iPad at the bottom. An angry Denise is next to her, arms folded. Wyatt wonders if her hands are stuffed under her armpits to stop herself from reaching for her gun. When Rufus leans back to greet Wyatt and Lucy, they see what's caused the fuss: Connor Mason seems to be locked inside the Lifeboat.

"Hey guys. Got a little problem here." Rufus tries to break the obvious tension but Denise remains unimpressed.

"What happened?" Lucy squints up at Mason who offers a small sheepish wave in return. His lips are moving but no one of the floor can make out anything other than a muffled gargle.

"Connor was trying to add some improvements to the hatch-lock since our Rittenhouse buddies keep trying to steal it out from under us. And in the process he… um… well he's locked in." Rufus pointedly doesn't look at Denise, who looks so angry Wyatt thinks they should let her try and rip the door off with her bare hands.

She takes a deep, calming breath which does little to alleviate the ice in her voice. "Can it be fixed?"

"Uh…" Rufus looks back at Connor. "Well, we could remove it but then that's gonna put the Lifeboat out of commission for a while when we reattach it. I could get underneath and reroute some of the controls but that's going to deplete the power core. Or I could get Connor to reprogram the dialling algorithm from _inside_ but that would-"

"_Rufus."_ Denise pinches the bridge of her nose. "Yes or no?"

"Definitely a strong… maybe."

Over the next hour they watch Rufus and Jiya tinkering with wires and cables. At one point Wyatt is sure Jiya is just smashing the hatch with a wrench in the hope of forcing it to open, though she swears blind it's more technical than that. Eventually Jiya triumphantly slams a side panel closed, shoving a screwdriver in her back pocket.

"Connor, can you hear me?" She taps the hatch twice to get his attention. "You need to run diagnostic seventeen…"

Rufus, Denise, Wyatt and Lucy wait anxiously at the bottom of the steps until they hear the piston release, signalling the opening of the hatch and an emerging, sheepish looking Connor Mason. Jiya punches the air in triumph.

"Yes, well, thank you Jiya. This was an unfortunate mishap with unintended consequences… and, I, ah… well…" Connor is doing all he can to avoid eye-contact with a mutinous Agent Christopher.

"Mr Mason. You and I need to have a discussion about responsibly. _Now_."

"Must we?" Connor mutters, taking a step down.

"Wait-!" Jiya starts, reaching out to stop him but it's too late. Connor hasn't spotted the debris of tools littering the step-ladder that Jiya had abandoned over the course of the hour in her and Rufus's joint efforts to free him from the Lifeboat. The heavy wrench Jiya had been bashing against the door slips and goes sailing straight down towards Lucy below.

"Watch out!" Jiya calls, leaning over the rail. Wyatt, his lightning quick reflexes and hero complex still ingrained regardless of any pesky bouts of amnesia, grabs Lucy's waist and pushes her out of harm's way. This has the unfortunate consequence of placing himself directly in the path of danger, as the wrench smacks him on the head instead. He grabs at the rail to steady himself as he's overcome with dizziness before succumbing and crumpling to the floor.

He's vaguely aware of panicked voices around him, feet rushing down metal steps, someone supporting his head. Really, he thinks, this is totally unfair. Two head injuries in as many days when all he tries to do is keep his team safe, with a case of amnesia to boot. Should he ask for a pay rise? Probably not, he's got nowhere to go to spend the money. And really, it's not even about the money, it's just who Wyatt is. He really is Mr Hero Complex. He does it because he's a good guy, because he's meant to protect his friends at any cost.

It's not all bad, he guesses, as Lucy's concerned face swims in front of his eyes. He thinks he can feel her hand on his cheek and can distantly hear her saying his name, but damn it his head aches and he really just needs to close his eyes for a second. He can't seem to form any words to reassure Lucy that he'll be ok, so he limply lifts his hand to cover hers and hopes she'll get the message. They need to get back to her bedroom and talk about what's happening between them, or if Wyatt has his way, maybe not so much talking. He'll just close his eyes for five minutes…

* * *

_Son of a bitch,_ his head hurts.

It feels like someone has smacked him upside the head with the biggest wrought iron pan they had to hand after a night of drinking himself under the table with no sleep. Huh. Maybe he drank so much he blacked out and someone got the upper hand in an almighty ass-whooping, but that isn't really like him these days.

Wait a minute. Déjà vu. Weird.

Wyatt doesn't think he's dreaming, but these thoughts seem eerily familiar to him. He cracks one eye open to check he hasn't been captured by Rittenhouse but no, he's in the bunker. Definitely not the mother of all hangovers in that case, though the feeling is remarkably similar. His head is pounding, he feels nauseous and he's having trouble putting his thoughts in a logical order. The last thing he remembers is being in a park, running towards the Lifeboat and Emma's lackeys coming at them. They got a hold of Lucy and… Jesus Christ, did one of them knock him out with a tree branch? That'll take a while to live down.

He tentatively stretches, checking nothing is broken, when he brushes a soft head of dark hair. He tilts his head and sees Lucy's sleeping form, her head resting in her folded arms on the edge of his bed. How long has he been out?

He tries his best not to jostle her as he adjusts his aching body, but she must be sleeping lightly because she jolts awake almost instantaneously. She blinks and then her face cracks into a relieved smile.

"Hey." She breathes a sigh of pure relief, reaching to brush her hand against his cheek. The unexpected tender gesture makes his stomach flip and he can't help but smile himself. He reaches up to place his palm over her own, and is overwhelmed by that odd feeling of déjà vu again.

"Hey." He replies, still smiling. "What's got you so worried?"

"You're kidding, right?" Her forehead creases a little in confusion as she withdraws her hand to take a seat on the edge of his bed.

"Uh… no. Want to fill me in?" Wyatt's been injured before, has definitely been knocked unconscious before, but he's a tough guy. Lucy is a worrier, it's true, but he's been in worse scrapes than this. A secret part of him is always thrilled when she's worried for him, but she seems particularly wound up right now and he can't work out why.

"You were knocked unconscious by a falling wrench?" Lucy's looking at him like he's crazy, and yes, that does sound like something to be concerned about, but he's pretty sure she's mistaken.

"I thought they got me with a tree branch or something. I swear that's what I saw that guy coming at me with."

"That was the day before." The little crease is becoming a defined frown. Wyatt is definitely missing something.

"Day before? What are you talking about? Weren't we just in '67?" Wyatt is all kinds of confused as he shifts into sitting position.

"You think we just got back from 1967?" Lucy intones in disbelief.

"Lucy, you're making me kind of nervous. What's going on?" Wyatt joins in with her confused frowning because something is clearly up.

"I'm going to get the doctor. I'll be right back, ok?" She peers into his eyes as if trying to work something out before standing and exiting the room.

Wyatt leans back against his pillows, searching his brain for what he's missing. So if they haven't just returned from '67, he's missing a whole chunk of time. Which strikes him as kind of ironic, considering he has easy access to a time machine.

The doctor returns, followed by every other occupant of the bunker, making for a crowded sickbay.

"Mr Logan, welcome back. I was hoping not to see you so soon. A little accident prone this week, are we?" The doctor – Doctor Drakeman, who assures Wyatt they have indeed met before – starts prodding and poking, asking him questions, jotting down notes. Yes, he knows his name. Yes, he knows his birthday. Yes, he knows his military rank and that he regularly chases time travelling lunatics through history.

"And the last thing you remember is your last mission?" Doctor Drakeman asks. "Hmm."

"Am I missing something, doc?" Wyatt asks. He looks around the room and everyone, even Connor and Agent Christopher, look concerned. That can't be good.

The doctor exchanges a brief glance with Denise and she gives a small nod. "When you returned from 1967 you had sustained a slight concussion and mild amnesia. That was roughly twenty four hours ago. After a second minor head trauma, it would appear your memory up until the first incident has returned in full, yet the last twenty four hours are lost to you."

"So… he's got amnesia… again?" Jiya scrunches up her face in confusion.

"Partially. Everything else seems to be intact. The last day may come back in time, or not at all, it's hard to say. His full memory prior to that is intact once more, so there's a good chance it'll return. I think the best thing to do now is let Mr Logan get some rest."

"I told you hitting him on the head again would work." Jiya mutters wickedly to Rufus who shushes her.

"I'm glad you're ok, man." Rufus claps him on the shoulder. Wyatt feels a little rattled knowing the last day is a blank to him, but by the sounds of things his whole life was a blank to him for a while there, so he guesses there's something to be said for silver linings.

"Let's clear out, people. Wyatt, we'll debrief in the morning." Denise hustles everyone out of the room, but Lucy hesitates at the door.

"Hey." Wyatt beckons her. "Come and sit with me for a second." He has the strangest feeling there's something she's not telling him.

She doesn't say anything for a beat and he registers that she looks a little sad. He keeps catching her looking sad a lot lately, since they brought her to the bunker after rescuing her from her mother's evil clutches, but she usually hides it better than she is right now.

"So this is weird, huh?" He tries to lighten the mood.

"I'm just glad you're ok." She smiles and the sadness fades.

"What did I miss?"

"Oh, you know…" she pauses, and the small smile on her face is suddenly tinged with mischief. "Just another day at the office."

"Really?" He can't work out why, but he doesn't believe her.

"You really can't remember?" She narrows her eyes, suddenly suspicious. He wants to give her the answer she's looking for, whatever it is, because it sure sounds like she wants him to tell her something. He just has no idea what it is, and he hates disappointing Lucy.

"I wish I could. I get the feeling it's important."

She sighs, closes her eyes, and when she opens them again it's like she's letting him off the hook for something. She's internally made her peace with something, but she's not letting him in on whatever it is.

"Lucy. Come on. Just tell me."

Lucy regards him, weighing up her options. She could tell him what happened, and he could react badly, and they'd have to awkwardly avoid each other in the too small bunker. She could tell him what happened, and he could be embarrassed. Or, a small voice whispers, he could be happy. He'd told her as much when he was unrestrained by his lack of memories, free to tell her about his feelings without being weighed down by any repercussions or judgements. He'd kissed her back enthusiastically enough. Even with a full set of memories, she hadn't been the only one leaning in when they had been locked in the trunk of a car a few weeks back.

But no. It wasn't fair. He hadn't had his memories and she'd do the right thing.

"It's… it's not fair to hold you accountable for something you can't remember."

"I have to be held accountable for something? What did I do?"

"It doesn't matter. Like I said, just another day at the office. You should get some rest." She smiles to reassure him, which does anything but. She stands but he catches her hand before she can make it to the door.

"Are we ok? Did I do something I need to apologise for?" Wyatt is so worried it breaks her heart a little. His kiss is burned into her memory, even if hers isn't burned into his. But she hasn't lost him. He's here, and stolen amnesia kisses or not, she hasn't lost him.

"We're fine." She squeeze his hand with another smile before letting go. She lingers in the doorway. "If it comes back to you though, let me know… sweetheart." She closes the door with a wink, and Wyatt is left in stunned silence. The last time she had jokingly employed that nickname was after their jump to Arkansas and a particular lip lock that Wyatt has replayed in his mind a thousand times.

He sinks back down into his pillows and wonders what he's missed, what Lucy isn't telling him. He closes his eyes and dreams of Lucy's kiss seared on his lips, but it's not accompanied by the usual 1930s music or faint taste of moonshine. This dream is backlit with dim lighting from the bunker, his weight pressed on top of hers, her hands in his hair. His vivid imagination must be heightened with the head injury, he thinks.

What a great dream.

**FIN**

**(a/n) **Thanks for sticking with it this far! I'd very much love to hear your thoughts.


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